Still Breathing.

Tag

family

To those who follow and read my posts, I apologize for being gone so long. Life took a moment to pick me up and shake me around, and everything has been hectic. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I was going to come back at all. I hit a low and didn’t have the energy to even get out of bed. I won’t really be going into extreme detail, but I will explain a bit.

First and foremost, my depression whipped around and hit me with ferocity. There was no specific reason, it just came back. I had convinced myself a long time ago that I had control over it, not the other way around. It seems I was very, very wrong. If you’ve ever dealt with depression or anxiety, you know how suffocating it can be at times.

Of course, this would be the time for everything to start inexplicably falling apart, right? My employers began cutting my hours down to nothing due to a mandatory pay raise over the whole company. I was barely able to pay my rent, let alone other bills. By the end of it, I was hardly scheduled at all. I mostly just came in to “help out a bit.” As I’ve mentioned before, the job market around here is terrible, and I was stuck between jobs for almost a month. We got behind on all our payments, and the stress level has risen to the max.

BUT.

We’re making it. I found a new job. I have to bust my ass to make up for the lost time, but I’m okay with that. To survive, you do what you have to. Above all else, we tell ourselves it will be alright, because it will eventually. Penny scraping doesn’t last forever. One day we’ll get a good night’s rest. Most importantly, our son has his whole life ahead of him. If everything we do, we do for him, and we do it as a team, then it will inevitably be alright. And that’s what really matters.

I finally opened my email today and saw I had a bunch of messages asking me to keep writing (along with my husband also telling me to), and it gave me that boost of encouragement I needed to get back on here. So thank you guys.

Shortly before I went on my little “vacation,” I had also started up a YouTube channel. I managed to get a couple videos up before I ran into “technical difficulties” (i.e. I had to sell my camera…). I will be trying to post more, though, once I get my other camera situated. The channel will be a bit different from what I post on here. A bit less dark, mostly.

All the time, I hear, “Well, if you’re unhappy about something, change it.” It’s not that simple though, is it?

I hate my job. And I mean, I legitimately hate it. Honestly, I can’t even tell you why because I can’t pinpoint the real issue behind the way I feel towards it. Perhaps it’s the management. Maybe it’s that I don’t feel like I’m living up to my potential, as arrogant as it may sound. Hell, it might just be because I work for a large corporate franchise retailer that almost literally sucks the life out of me every second that I’m there. I’m not really sure.

It makes no difference how much I despise my job, though. It doesn’t matter how unhappy it makes me. Picking up and leaving my job because I detest it isn’t even remotely realistic. In a small rural town with hardly any job market, I was lucky to snag the terrible job that I did, never mind trying to have a “backup” job. I have a family to feed and a roof to keep over our heads. It’s becoming more difficult with each passing day. I can’t leave, but it’s breaking me.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the mess. I’m losing faith in my ability to keep going. I shouldn’t feel nauseated at the idea of having to get up and do things during the day. Even on my days off, I’m too exhausted to feel like I’m actually getting any rest. I’m tired. I try so hard to be a solid foundation, but I’m cracking.

I’ve sunk into this pit of self-loathing and feeling of worthlessness. Like nothing I do will be good enough because I’ve lost the will to try. Honestly, my job may not even be the problem. Maybe it’s me that’s the problem.

Looking around, I spy crackers crunched up and slipped under the rug, along with a trail of toy-town destruction. Toys that, mind you, I couldn’t even find before playtime. It seems as my son’s energy force grows, mine weakens. Some days I just want to rip my hair out. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Watching the personality blossom in my Baby Man starts establishing a feeling of uselessness. He’s become so independent so quickly. By five months, he slept through the night on his own; he doesn’t even have to be lulled. I almost forget how fragile and tiny he was an extremely short year ago. The first two months of nothing but tears (mostly my own). Waiting to see what color his eyes and hair were going to turn. My delicate little being that fit so perfectly into my arms is already about half my height and all of his daddy’s attitude.

Even now, Baby Man is staring at me with a toothy, chubby-cheeked grin. Calling me “Dada” because, of course, everyone is Dada. When we try to get him to say “Mama,” he corrects us.

“Will you say ‘Mama?'”

“Dada.”

“Mama mama.”

“Dada dada.”

“MAAA-MAAA.”

“DAAA-DAAA.”

He doesn’t understand what’s so funny, but he laughs with us regardless.

He makes my heart swell every time I look at him. And every time he looks back at me, I fall in love all over again. He makes every heartache, every tear, and every sore muscle worth the struggle.